Love You to Death Harley's Diary 2
by harleyquinnqueenofhearts
Summary: Harley moves in with J : sequel to Diary of Harley Quinn


**Harley Quinn's OWN Diary**

**Not owned by Arkham at all**

Ok, so I said I wouldn't need my diary anymore. Well, old habits die hard. All that writing in Arkham stayed with me. It's almost therapeutic. I've been writing since the first day of my life as Harley. It's been a comfort for a long time, and I couldn't stop if I tried.

Back to where I left off._ Taking a deep breath, I turned around…_

There he was. I couldn't believe it. I didn't believe it. I ran my hand over his scars to make sure he was real. He smiled at me mischievously. "It's really you," I whispered. He kissed me. I had missed him so much, and here he was. Life really was turning out better already.

"How would you like to get out of those?" he said, holding my cuffed hands in front of my face.

"Yes, please." Without warning, he picked me up and started carrying me through the lesser known streets. "Where are we going?" I giggled.

"Home," he responded casually. I was confused by that. Surely, he must've known that the police found out where I lived.

"But what about the cops?" He just looked down at me and smiled. Not a word. Somehow, I knew that he had something up his sleeve. I didn't speak anymore. I was too busy enjoying the fact that J was alive and well. I'd ask questions later.

He put me down when we got to the older part of town, full of abandoned houses. He put his hands over my eyes and led me down the street. I wondered which house it was. I heard him open the door. "Ta-da!" he exclaimed.

I opened my eyes to see a run-down old house. It was a small, with only one bedroom. There was a kitchen with a rusted sink and a broken window. I loved it. I just stood there, my mouth gaping in amazement. "How long have you been here?" He paused to think.

"Since the day after you left." I jumped at his voice. He was right behind me. I turned to see him again. He brushed his hand against the scars on my face. "I missed you." I didn't expect that to come out of his mouth.

"I missed you, too," I replied, watching him fiddle with the lock on my handcuffs. They dropped to the floor. We both stood there for a second, just looking at each other.

We were standing in the living room, which had an open kitchen. I walked over to the bathroom, then the bedroom. As soon as I turned the knob, two big Rottweiler dogs pounced on me. I yelped. J came in the room.

"Hey!" he yelled to the dogs. "Off!" They obeyed. "She's mine," he said possessively. I was still whimpering on the floor when I realized they had gotten off me. J offered me a hand, which I gladly accepted.

"You never told me you had pets," I teased. He frowned, not wanting to show emotion.

"They aren't pets. They're for protection." I rolled my eyes. Men.

"Did you name them?" I asked.

"No." I could tell he was getting mad at me for teasing him, so I stopped. I went back to the living room and sat down on a chair. It was an improvement from the apartment for sure. There was more space, even if there wasn't a lot of furniture to fill it with. I was just grateful to be here with J. I was reading my Arkham diary when all of a sudden, my chair tipped forward. I fell out, of course. J sat down in my place while I sat trying to figure out what happened.

"What was that for?" I asked angrily.

"This is my chair," he griped. I had a feeling he had been in his terrible two's for years.

"Well, where am I supposed to sit?" He patted his lap. I stood staring at him with my hands on my hips. He didn't budge. "Fine." I sat down hard on him. I smiled at his groan of pain. He put his arms around my waist; I held onto them.

It was good to be home.

Later that night, I started to get tired. "Where am I sleeping?" I asked him.

"In our room," he said.

"_Our _room?" I asked. He nodded. Oh, no. This was _not _going to work out. Nope. Absolutely not! "But there's no chairs in there!"

"So sleep in the bed."

"Alone?"

"No." I stood over him trying to be as menacing as possible. He wasn't buying it.

"How about we make a deal?"

"I'm listening…"

"You stay far away from me on your side…"

"Mhm…"

"I get to have a gun."

"Ok…"

"And if you cross sides, I'll shoot you." He snickered. "I'm serious!"

"What's in it for me?"

"I won't shoot you. That's what's in it for you."

"No deal."

"Okay, fine! What do you want?"

"A favor…"

"What?"

"I haven't decided yet. But I get whatever favor I want, when I want." I thought for a minute.

"Okay. Deal." He started to chuckle. It bothered me. He had a million different laughs, but this mischievous chuckle placed in this conversation was making me nervous. He almost skipped away into the room. He came back out again and handed me a gun. I checked to make sure it had ammo, not blanks. It did.

He must've noticed, because he said, "I'm a man of my word, beautiful." Something about the way he said that intimidated me, but I went to bed anyway. I had that gun strapped to me tight and slept outside the sheets. I was fully intent on shooting him if he so much as poked me.

I was rudely awakened by freezing cold water being thrown on top of me. "J! What the heck?!" I gasped. He stood over me with a bucket giggling like a three year old. I put my pillow over my head. "What time is it?" I asked, muffled by the wet pillow.

"Six o'clock. Rise and shine, doll face! We've got things to do!"

I groaned. What could we possibly have to do at six in the morning? I got up, sopping wet. "You better have towels," I muttered on my way to the bathroom. I grabbed a towel that was hanging on the shower curtain and tried to dry off. By this time, my makeup was all the way off, so I stole his again to redo it. My clothes were still wet.

I walked out of the bathroom. "I have to get more clothes, wherever we're going." He looked at me as if I had said something outrageous.

"Why?"

"Because it's December, and I'm dripping wet! I'll get pneumonia!"

"You can wear this," he said, handing me his coat.

"Fine," I sighed. I changed in the bathroom, keeping on an undershirt that was only damp. "When did you get back this anyway?" I asked, coming out of the bathroom.

"When you got arrested." I was surprised he knew that I got arrested, but slowly, I pieced it together.

"You planted the bomb, didn't you?" He nodded as we walked out the door. That took me aback. "Thank you," I almost whispered, taking his arm. We walked together down the streets of Gotham, always taking the less busy roads and passing through alleys. "So where are we going so early?"

"We're going to visit some old friends of mine," he said smiling. It was his evil smile. Somebody was about to be in serious trouble.

We arrived at what looked like the back of a restaurant. Before we went inside, he turned to me and told me, "Stay close to me." He handed me a knife. We walked in together.

There were men sitting at a table in the kitchen. I recognized them from the paper. They were what were left of the mob. J had already taken care of the rest. All the eyes in the room were on him. I could tell they weren't expecting this. "Miss me?" he asked. One of them spoke up.

"But you're…you're dead!" he said shaking with fear. I knew the feeling.

"You know, there's something funny about police reports…they're like a joke that nobody gets. Everybody just goes along with it!" J made his way to an empty chair. I followed, close behind. He nodded to the chair. I understood what he wanted. I sat down on his lap, not wanting to argue with him at work.

Another guy questioned, "Who's the kid?"

"This _angel _is Harley," J replied, kissing the top of my head. I smiled. "And she's no kid. Should've seen her kill her guard back at Arkham," he chuckled.

I elbowed him in the ribs as I whispered sharply, "How long have you been watching me?"

"_Relax. _I was protecting you," he whispered back. That frightened me just a bit.

He noticed the muscle of the group getting up. "Did you miss the magic trick last time? How about a repeat performance? Harley here hasn't seen it yet." He stood me up and took a pencil out of his pocket, turning to me. "I'm going to make this pencil disappear. Watch carefully." He jammed it into the table.

The mobster came closer to him, his colleagues telling him to stop. He didn't. J slammed his face into the pencil, killing him. "You see?" he asked me. "It's gone." I played along.

"Bravo," I commented, kissing him on the cheek. The mobsters were astonished that J would let me. I turned to them with a smirk. J walked around the table, taking me by the arm.

"We've been thinking, Harley and I…we don't want to run into any trouble. You guys were bound to cross paths with us sometime, but there's a bit of a problem. You see, according to the police reports, we're both dead…" He forged a police report for me. That was sweet, whether he would admit it or not. He went on, "So, let's just keep this a secret, okay?"

The man I assume to be the new leader of the crime family chuckled. "What's in it for us?" J reached into his pocket. This wasn't good news for this guy.

"Give me a second to decide here…" He placed something under the table. "Can I come back?" The men knew something was up. I could see the fear in their faces as we left. J took my hand and ran, almost dragging me out of the building. "Come on, come on!"

This was not good. I ran to keep up, but he's really fast. He ended up hoisting me over his shoulder and running. I watched the building explode. "Wow," I said to him, "Now that's a magic trick." He smiled as he put me down. "What happened to the car that you had?"

"Don't have it," he answered casually.

"Why not?"

"Cops saw me in it."

"Can we get a different one, please?" He smirked at me.

"Tired of running already?" I nodded. "Better get used to it."

"Is there anything else to get used to?" I asked hoping he would say no.

"Moving, if the cops find out we're alive."

"I guess I can live with that." He laughed quietly at first, but his laugh grew. It wasn't even funny, but he just laughed and laughed. It was contagious. I was laughing at his laugh. We walked back home, both laughing hysterically.

As soon as we got home, the big dogs came running to the door. "Breakfast," J explained. I patted them on the head and sat down. They went into the kitchen, where I'm assuming J fed them. He came back out to see me in his chair. All it took was a stare.

I sighed, letting him sit down. "Where are you going?" he asked me.

"I have to eat." I walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. There wasn't much there besides a carton of orange juice and a loaf of bread. There wasn't a toaster in the kitchen, so I just ate bread. I searched the cabinets for a glass or something, but there weren't any. "Have you been drinking this out of the carton?" I asked without turning around.

"Yep," he answered.

"That's gross." I heard him stifle a laugh from the living room. I wiped off the top before taking a mouthful. I sat down on his lap. He turned on the news. There was Bruce Wayne, being his annoyingly rich self. J saw me react to him.

"Something wrong?" he asked, knowing that the answer was yes.

"It's just…him." I made a face at the TV. J looked a little confused. "Wait a second, you seriously don't know?" How could he have not figured this out by now?

"Don't know what?" I laughed at him in disbelief.

"He's Batman!" I replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. J jumped up, almost knocking me over.

"Harley!" he laughed. "Harley!" He kissed me over and over again, interjecting my name every few seconds. He grabbed my face and shook it. "You're so smart!" I couldn't help but laugh at him. He was almost skipping away to his room. I guessed he was going to go plan a visit.

I continued watching TV until lunch. J's door was still closed, so I just walked out to go get some decent food.

I got back in to find him sitting in his chair, looking rather angry. This was not good.

"Where were you?" he asked walking towards me. He had that menacing look about him like when he's about to hit somebody. I knew I was going to get it.

"I just went out to get some food. I didn't-"

"Did anybody see you?" I was getting nervous now, knowing what awaited me. Living with him was not going to be easy.

"No! I was careful, I swear!" I could feel that horrible lump forming in my throat like I was about to cry. I really didn't want this to happen right now. The day was going so well until now.

He grabbed me by the arms and pinned me against the wall. I whimpered. My feet were barely touching the floor. "Let me tell you something, princess. You don't go out without me. You go where I go, eat what I eat, sleep where I sleep, got it?"

"Yes, sir," I said timidly. He dropped me. I lay there in a heap on the floor, rubbing my arms. I hated when he was mad at me. The emotional hurt was always worse than the physical.

After that, I didn't talk to him the rest of the night. I wasn't mad, but I was terrified of saying the wrong thing. It just took over my thoughts, but I'm sure he didn't think much of it. This was what he's like. I chose that. The good's worth the bad.

He went to bed earlier than me that night, so I was left alone in the living room with my thoughts. I went over the day's events, but in the back of my mind I could hear the low chatter of people again like the night I hit my head. It was getting louder. I ran to the bedroom, petrified. It was like a bad dream. I didn't realize where I was anymore until J said something.

"Harley, quit yelling. I'm trying to sleep," he said in a bleary voice.

"Oh. Sorry," I whispered. I lay there trying to fall asleep, keeping my eyes on J to help me focus.

J shook me awake at 9. "Harley," he said in sing-song, "It's time to get up. C'mon, sleepyhead!" I groaned. I hadn't slept well. He apparently did because he was all dressed and ready. "Should I get a bucket?"

"No!" I protested. "I'm up." He smirked. I stuck out my tongue at him. "What are we doing today?"

"Going shopping."

"Aren't people going to see us?"

"Not where we're going." I got up, confused, and headed for the bathroom. It felt good to be all clean in my own dry clothes. J knocked on the door. I opened it.

"Yeah?" I responded, continuing to put on his makeup.

"We got to take the dogs today," he said as he grabbed leashes from the bathroom floor.

"Okay." He looked at me through the mirror.

"Is that mine?"

"I wear what you wear, darling," I quipped dryly. I watched him smile dismissively in the mirror. I finished up, he put on his coat, and we headed out the door.

He held the dogs since they were much too strong for me. We headed off down streets that I wasn't familiar with, which was odd, because if anything, I knew Gotham City. I let him lead me with his arm around my waist. I figured that if I encouraged affection, he might soften up a little bit, at least towards me.

It was a nice day, and I enjoyed just walking with him. Neither one of us had to say anything. It was just really pleasant, even though we weren't in the nicest part of town. It almost seemed abandoned. He stopped around the corner from a dock. "Stay here, okay?" he warned. I nodded. I didn't want to know who was around that corner, but it must've been somebody shady if he brought the dogs.

I sat down on the curb while I waited. Those dogs really needed names, poor babies. I thought of ideas, but none of them seemed to fit. It passed the time though, something I was used to doing from Arkham. Ugh. Anyway, I figured I'd just call them "the babies" for now.

He came around the corner with the babies, smiling. "Get a good deal?" I asked.

"Mhm," he replied cheerily. I wondered what he bought. Probably some weapon or something.

"You're awfully happy today, aren't you?"

"I'm with my Harley-girl, ain't I?" He gave me a big cheesy grin.

"Smooth," I chuckled. It was funny watching him attempt to be romantic. I kissed him on the cheek anyway. He took my hand. I tried to hold it back, but I squealed, blushing immediately afterward.

"That's cute," he laughed.

"Shut up," I said, bumping him playfully. He pretended to be hurt. "Oh, come on. That did not hurt." He bumped me back, almost knocking me over. "Okay, that's cheating." He was laughing mindlessly, making me laugh again.

The rest of the day was actually pretty mundane. He went off, I'm assuming to keep planning a visit to Bruce Wayne's penthouse. I sat around, watched TV, read, wrote…just relaxed.

I was getting sleepy, so I started for the bedroom. I knocked on the door timidly, afraid to interrupt. There was no answer. "J?"

"What?" he said from behind the door.

"Can I please sleep now?"

"I'm working in here."

"Can you work somewhere else?"

"No." I sighed. He was being so selfish. I went back to the chair and ended up sleeping there, at least until he woke me up.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked me.

"I _was _sleeping."

"Oh." He picked me up and started to move me.

"Couldn't I just sleep out there, at least for tonight?"

"No." I was getting tired of this. I did the unthinkable. I pulled my gun on him.

"Yes." He dropped me right there.

"Who gave you that gun?"

I muttered angrily, "You did."

"Who broke you out of jail?" I rolled my eyes, staying quiet. He slapped me hard across the face. Forgetting he was easily capable of killing me, I got up.

"Let me ask you something. Who visited you every day in jail? Hmm? Who was going to break you out?" He stopped me before I could get any further by slamming me against the wall. The gun fell out of my hand.

"You don't talk to me like that!" I struggled to break free from his grip, but he was too strong. I wasn't going to let him treat me that way. I kicked him as hard as I could, which made him let go. He tripped me as I tried to run. The whole thing ended when he literally kicked me when I was down. I just lay there until he walked away.

I really didn't feel like it, but I picked up the gun and trudged off to bed, trying to sleep as far away from him as possible. I was livid with him, and he dare not even talk to me. At the same time, though, I was asking myself what I did wrong. I didn't do anything! He started it! But he has problems. He can't help being him. It was all so confusing. On top of all that, the noises came back. I was crying under all of the stress.

Suddenly, I felt him stroking my hair. Instinctively, I put my hand on the gun I had. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to help you sleep. You okay with that?" he asked. Only he wasn't being sarcastic. He was genuinely making sure I was comfortable. This was like his apology. He really did care about me.

"Oh…okay. Okay."

Surprisingly, I wasn't woken up the next morning. I got up on my own, but J wasn't there. He had left a note in place of him:

Gotham City Rail, Betcom Station, 5 PM.

-J

He let me sleep in. That was nice, whether he actually meant it or he just wanted to be alone that day. I was just going to be positive and take it as the former. I had the day to myself until I had to leave for the rail station, and I was going to enjoy it.

I got some new clothes. I decided that since it's been a while since Batsy and I last saw each other, I should look nice. You know, show him how successful I am. I picked out a casual red dress and black leggings, which I wore with full makeup and my pigtails. If I may say so, I looked pretty good.

I spent the rest of the day getting stuff ready in case of any problems. When I was all done, I had four knives, two guns, and a hand grenade on my person. I had a bag packed with a different outfit, something to cover my face, and one more of each weapon.

By the time I was completely ready, it was 4 PM: time to leave. I headed out the door and down the backstreets that I knew best. Like I said, I know Gotham. I went to elementary school in the history district.

I got to Betcom Station right on 5 PM. It was empty, except for J, who I knew was lurking around there somewhere. I spun around, searching for him.

"Looking for someone?"

I gasped. "J! Do you have to do that?" He chuckled. We got on the monorail. It was completely empty, not even a driver. After 4, the monorails are automatically operated on a timer at Wayne Tower, where most of the monorails stop. "We going to see Bruce?"

"Mhm," he said while loading himself with weapons. He easily had twice the amount that I did, hidden in the most random places. When he was finished, he turned to me and said, "You look nice today."

"Thank you." I stepped closer to him as a reward for his kindness. We finally stopped, getting off hand in hand at Wayne Tower Central Station. J shot the people on the first floor without even flinching. We got into the elevator without any trouble. I pushed the button for the top floor; from there, we could find a service elevator.

J explained his plan to me while we headed up, but I'll skip that part and just let it play out.

The service elevator doors opened at Wayne's penthouse. Bruce looked surprised to see me. "Harley?" he asked. "But the police reports said you were dead!"

"Police reports are like jokes that nobody gets. Everyone just plays along." His face turned serious. I smirked. He was a lot more fun when he was annoyed. "Did you miss us?"

"Us?" At that precise moment, J came out of the elevator and put an arm around me. Bruce looked like he had seen a ghost. I couldn't help but giggle.

"Alfred?" he yelled in horror. "Call the police."

"Not a good idea," I said shaking my head.

"You see, Harley and me, we just want to talk. But if there's trouble, we can't just leave, we have to get rid of all the evidence," J explained.

"You wouldn't want that now, would you?" I asked him, pulling out my grenade. He shook his head. We walked closer to him, careful not to scare him away. J smacked him in the head with a pistol, knocking him unconscious. He slung him over his shoulder and headed for the service elevator. We went out the back way this time, hoping no one would see us.

The monorails weren't the safest choice, so we crossed through unfamiliar streets again to get back. I realized which way we were going. "J?" I asked.

"What?" I stopped.

"We can't go back there."

"The cops think we're dead. It'll be fine. Trust me. The best place to hide is in plain sight." I thought about that. I may not trust him in a lot of things, but escaping cops was what he was good at.

"Okay," I said, starting to move again. "But what about the babies?" He stopped and stared at me. "The dogs?"

"They'll be fine." I continued to follow him, a little sad that we were leaving the dogs.

We went to the apartment, which I had missed greatly, but it was now different inside. It was almost empty. All J's weapons, the Joker cards on the floor, most of my clothes…gone. Thank goodness most of my food was still there, but still…it was all so strange.

I looked around. "J? Where are you?"

"In here. C'mere for a second." There was a slight problem. J was in the one room that I hadn't been in since I became Harley. Ever. It was so painful that I couldn't bring myself to go in there, but J wanted me.

I struggled to open the door. As soon as I did, I closed my eyes.

"What're you doing? Get in here," J said, pulling me by the arm. I fought back tears. Just the sight of it was almost too much to handle, but being in there with J? Unbearable. My face was stinging already. "Help me tie this?" He threw me a rope.

I nodded, wanting to focus on something, _anything _else. We tied Bruce up and left him in there. I got out as soon as I could, shivering outside the door. J stepped out leisurely, taking the time to freak me the heck out. He came up behind me and whispered, "Remember?"

I shrieked, covering my mouth immediately afterward. He was chuckling. Meanwhile, I was lowering myself to the floor trying not to faint.

J put me on "Bruce duty", as he called it, which meant that I had to wait outside the door until he woke up. When he did, it was my job to keep him just barely alive until J was ready to talk to him.

I heard yelling and noises, so I assumed he was awake. I got a wet towel for his head and went inside hesitantly. He stopped yelling as soon as he saw me. "Let me go."

I responded with a simple "no" and went on trying to fix his head. He contorted himself to avoid me. I sighed exasperatedly. "Do you want that to heal or not?" No response. He just stopped moving.

After I was finished, he said rather confidently, "They'll find you."

"I'm dead, remember?" I responded, getting out as fast as possible. J was sitting on the floor in the living room waiting for me.

"How is he?"

"Alive…annoyed." He smiled at that.

"You gonna give him lunch?" I hadn't realized that it was almost three.

"Yeah, I guess." I made him a microwave grilled cheese and got a bottle of water from the fridge. He wasn't about to get the good food. After all, he _is _a hostage.

I brought in his food while looking only at the floor. Looking at the walls made me feel dizzy just from remembering. He could sense my fear. Finally, he made the connection between the blood on my shoes and the blood on the floor.

"He did it here, didn't he?" he asked gently. I nodded, trying not to get too emotional. I had enough to remind me of the incident already, and I didn't need him to tell me. "You okay?"

I rubbed my eyes with my sleeve as I responded, "Yeah." I was mad at him for not only seeing my vulnerability but being able to call me on it. Not wanting J to see me like that, I let myself slump down on the floor. I'd get out of there as soon as I looked okay. It was hard to focus on anything else but the room, sending me into a blind panic. I closed my eyes, desperate to gain control.

_Okay. Focus, Harl. It's all over. You're okay, _I told myself. Fresh tears came once again when I opened my eyes and realized that I was sitting in the same exact spot I was in when it happened.

I hated myself for crying in front of Bruce, but he didn't seem to mind. He went on trying to eat his lunch with his hands tied. He had resorted to putting it on the floor and trying to grab it from there. He looked ridiculous, which cheered me up a bit. I chuckled at his wasted efforts.

"Need some help there, Tiger?" I laughed.

"If you wouldn't mind too much," he answered dryly. I put the sandwich in his mouth and let him struggle from there.

Confident that I had composed myself, I ventured out into the living room to meet J. I had hardly seen him all day. "You going to eat?" he asked, approaching me.

"I'm not hungry." He lifted my chin to see my face.

"Have you been crying?" Ugh. Caught.

"No," I lied, "I'm fine."

"No. You're lying." He ran his hand over my face. "Tell me what's wrong," he pleaded tenderly. When he said it like that, I almost melted right there. I had been good at hiding my feelings until I met him. There's something about him that just multiplies every emotion inside you by ten.

"It's just…" I really didn't want to tell him. "I…" I lost what little control I had of my feelings. "I can't stand being in that room," I sobbed. "It scares me."

"Shh…it's alright. Hey. Look at me…that's where I made you beautiful," he told me as he touched my scars. I found that to be a little creepy, but he told me I was beautiful in his own weird way.

He seems to be obsessed with my scars. He loves to run his hand over them. He likes to feel my hair, too. Maybe that was his way assuring himself that he was not alone. Maybe he felt as if it was too good to be true as well.

The next day, everything seemed more relaxed. Well, everything except Bruce. Yet again, he was yelling which woke both J and I up.

"Harley…make him shut up," he said groggily.

"Why do I have to do it?"

"Because I'm sleeping."

"I'm sleeping, too," I retorted, putting a pillow over my head. I heard J sigh angrily and get up. "Thank you," I smiled. The next thing I knew he had dragged me out of bed and was pulling me towards the room. "Get off!" He opened the door and shoved me in, locking it behind me. I pounded on the door. "Let me out!"

No answer. I kept hitting the door until my arms wouldn't move anymore, and I slid to the floor. "Please just let me out," I moaned in desperation.

"So he finally turned on you," Bruce said. I could almost hear his grin.

"Shut up!"

"He locked you in a room with a hostage. Still think he loves you?" Oh no. J was mad at me, which meant that the noises were coming back.

"Stop it! You're confusing me!" I sobbed. The room was scary enough on its own. I didn't need him to tell me that the one person who cared about me didn't anymore. I was losing it. I needed control over something. I needed control over him.

"He's getting sick of you, Harley. He'll get rid of you somehow. He might turn you in, he might kill you, but either way he's-"

"Just shut up!" I slapped him hard across the face. He looked back at me surprised. "Not another word or I'll kill you myself!" Everything stopped. I didn't hear anyone. Finally, I had gained control of my own mind, which felt so amazing! That is until Bruce opened his big mouth again.

"He wouldn't be too happy about that, now would he?" I couldn't take it anymore. I just started hitting him, and it felt good. The door opened, but I didn't stop.

"Get. Off. Now." J dragged me to the same spot where I got my scars. He was furious. All I felt were punches and kicks. I didn't even try to defend myself. Bruce was yelling for him to stop, but I just let him hit me. "You don't get to hit him." He walked out the door. I just lay there. I couldn't cry anymore. There wasn't anything left in me. I was exhausted.

Eventually, I fell asleep right there. When I woke up, I felt so drained. It was like I had no emotion at all. I got up and walked out to the living room.

I asked J in a barely audible voice, "Why don't you love me?" He cupped my face in his hands.

"Harley…baby…" He kissed me. It felt so good to know that he wasn't mad at me anymore, but I was missing something.

"Say it."

"What?"

"Tell me you love me," I whispered blankly. He stared at me for a second.

"I…I love you." I couldn't tell if he meant it or not, but he wasn't hitting me anymore, which was enough for me.

"Okay." After a long pause, J broke the silence.

"Do you…do you love me?" I never thought he would ever ask me that.

"I love you. I'll never stop loving you." He hugged me tightly, his head resting on my shoulder. The only sounds were his short bursts of breath.

J was crying.

It wasn't like in the jail. This time I was sure he was crying. I tried pull away to look at him, but he held me all the tighter. I wouldn't have minded if he never let go. Knowing he was crying was a beautiful thing. It made him seem human.

It made me feel needed. I kissed him on the cheek. It was my turn to be comforting this time.

"Harley…today's the big day. C'mon, Sleepyhead." J was being nice today, shaking me awake gently instead of using a bucket or pushing me off the bed. I got the feeling he was beginning to get used to me, which was exciting.

"Okay. Let me get ready first," I groaned. I was still tired, even if J was going to talk to Bruce today. I headed off to the bathroom to put on a fresh coat of makeup.

Looking in the mirror was not the highlight of the day. I had bruises all over me and didn't look very healthy. I was getting thin. Too thin. My eyes were all puffy from lack of sleep. However, I decided to worry about that later and went on freshening up. J appeared in the mirror. He looked like a little kid, all excited and whatnot. I couldn't help but giggle at him.

We walked into the room arm in arm since we both knew that Bruce didn't approve of our relationship. Speaking of Bruce, he looked like a train wreck. His nose was all bloody; he had a black eye. I was pretty proud of my work. Plus, looking at him kept me distracted from the room.

"How you doing, Brucey?" J asked. "Just thought we'd check in on you. You look good for getting beat up by a girl." He kissed me on the cheek.

"You should see yourself, Bruce, 'cause when J's done, you're not gonna look like you anymore." Bruce scowled at me. I smiled. Perfect.

"Give us a minute to catch up, dollface?"

"Sure. Have fun, baby." I kissed J on the cheek, gave Bruce a sly smile, and headed out the door to listen to the festivities.

First, there was some muffled talking. I could only make out a few words-something about a girl named Rachel-but it was easy to figure out that J was intimidating him. Bruce started yelling, so I heard him loud and clear when he told J he killed her. J remained calm, and therefore, muffled. Every now and then, I'd hear him laugh. Bruce kept on yelling, this time about me.

"She's just a kid! I won't let you hurt her!" As annoying as Bruce was, I felt different about him now. Maybe…maybe J wasn't the only person who cared about me. I wasn't about to just believe that right away, though. After all, he _did _throw me out the window and try to kill J. I'd wait a while to see what he really thought about me. Then I'd _consider _being nicer to him. Until then, he was my punching bag.

J started to slap him around a bit by the sounds of things. I could hear that familiar sound of groans of pain. It was a sound that I made often, but hopefully, that'll change. I got some food while I waited for J to come out. I knew he wouldn't kill Bruce today. He wanted to get some fun out of this thing, make it worthwhile. Unfortunately for me, that meant we would be spending quite some time in Bruce's room. I tried not to think about it while I consumed as many calories as I could stand.

Yes, I was genuinely concerned about my health. If I didn't eat something soon, I would be sick; with my lifestyle, that's not a good thing. I have to keep good health to make up for the lack of sleep. Otherwise, I'd probably be comatose, which is not optimal when running from the law.

My musings were interrupted when J shouted, "Harley! Get in here!" I rolled my eyes. Would it be so hard to say please? I was surprised to see what I did. J was still beating the unfortunate Bruce to a bloody pulp. He really did not look good. "Make me stop," J pleaded desperately.

"J!" He didn't budge. "J!" I called again. Nothing changed. I sighed. _I'm going in, _I thought to myself. I slid under J's arm so that I was between him and Bruce. I kissed J, slowly and gently pushing him towards the door. J put his arms around me, finally bringing his hits to a stop. I slid out of his arms and walked out of the door, smirking at my femme prowess. J followed.

"Wow." I giggled. He was obviously impressed with my powers of trickery. I turned to look at him.

His hands were covered in Bruce's blood; his coat was all wrinkly. His hair was in his face, and his makeup was all smeared. He looked adorable. He moved towards me, wanting to put an arm around my waist.

"Eh!" I interrupted, "Wipe your gloves, please." He trudged overdramatically to the bathroom with me close behind. "Did you have a knife or something?" He shook his head. "How did you get all…" I searched my mind for a word. "Like that?" I asked pointing to his hands. He gave a deep chuckle.

"Go ask Bruce."

"Oh, so it's going to be like that?" I asked playfully. He flashed me a childlike smile. Gosh, he's cute when he does that. I couldn't help but squeal and kiss him on the cheek.

"I love it when you do that."

"What? This?" I kissed him on the cheek again.

"That too," he chuckled. He cocked his head to the side as he grabbed a wipe.

"What? Why are you looking at me like at?" I inquired cheerily.

"You, my dear, look beautiful today." I squealed again as he embraced me. "I like it when I get to mess up your makeup," he murmured gently.

"You mean like this?" I barely brushed his lips then wiped my hand across his face, ruining his makeup.

I laughed while he muttered, "Very funny." I could tell he was dying to laugh but didn't want to admit it. What he did next was completely unexpected. "I meant like this." I had no time to react as he dipped me into a lingering kiss. It was so different from all the other times he had kissed me. This one was sweet and more romantic. He held me like that even after he stopped.

"I…you…wow," I stammered. He had me under his spell just from making eye contact, so this…this was breathtaking. He picked me up and spun me around before setting me back down. I didn't know what to say. "J…I-"

"Oh, Harley-girl," he sighed brushing my hair behind my ear. His hand remained on my face. He smeared my makeup the same way I did his and walked away snickering. I couldn't help but smile.

While I was in a good mood, I decided to feed Bruce so that I didn't have to worry about it later. I walked in beaming. He didn't look so good. All over his body, there were bruises and cuts. His nose was bleeding again, and he gained another black eye. He lifted his head to look at me, his response to my appearance being "I don't want to know."

"Oh, Brucey. You'll find love someday." He sighed. "Or did you already?" I suspected aloud. "Tell me about this…Rachel." He was silent, but his face was getting all red. "No? Okay. I'll just leave your food all the way over here by this wall. Have fun in there!" I exclaimed gleefully, closing the door.

I looked around for J. Turns out he was in the bathroom, fixing his makeup. He smiled at me. I giggled. "So...who's Rachel?"

"Rachel?" he asked, "You know Harvey Dent?" I nodded. "She was his fiancée…but, uh, poor Batsy was sweet on her, too." A mischievous smile played across his face. I pieced it together. She was the girl that got blown up while I was at Arkham.

"What happened to her?" I asked, fully aware of the answer. He obviously wanted to tell me more, so I played along.

"She met an…explosive end," he responded smirking. He kissed me and went off to the living room. _I love him, _I thought, _and I'm so glad he's alive._

Just then, I realized the hurt that Bruce must've felt. Not only did Rachel not love him, but now she was dead. I went straight into his room. He had managed to tip over his chair and was now trying to inch his way over to the sandwich on the floor. I pushed his chair back up and got his food for him. I started to feed it to him.

"Bruce, I…I'm so sorry about…about Rachel. I know what it's like to lose someone you love."  
"Who, him? He's still alive."

"He wasn't until eleven days ago…and my parents. They're gone. He…" I gave up trying to hide my feelings in front of Bruce. He didn't care. "He killed them," I blurted, crying quietly.

"Sorry about that," he replied stoically. "My parents are gone, too."

"Really? What happened?" He took his time answering me.

"We, um…we were at an opera. There was this scene with…bats flying around, and I got scared, so my father took me and Mom out of the theatre. We went out the back door and there was a mugger there. He- he had a gun. Dad was just getting his wallet and the guy shot him and Mom." He sighed, looking down. Perhaps he wasn't as stoic as I thought.

"I'm so sorry."

"What about you?" For some reason, I didn't want to talk anymore when the conversation turned to my parents. I felt a little sick.

"Didn't you read it in my diary?" I scoffed.

"I, uh…I want to hear it from you." I rolled my eyes. He was so…ugh! Just so insincere and mocking and-

He looked at me like he was serious. I started to tell my story, fidgeting nervously. He listened intently. It was so weird. He was being comforting and kind. The only people who've ever been comforting and kind to me since Harley are J and Michelle, but Michelle's mad at me now. I felt…like I was worth something when I talked to him. I was worth listening to.

He should consider being a psychologist, if he ever makes it out of here alive.

Today, I woke up on my own. J was sitting on the end of the bed, all excited. "Come on, I want to show you something!" he called. I blinked groggily. "Get up! Come on!"

"I'm coming. Chill out." He sat down on the floor next to the bed and motioned for me to sit next to him. As I did, he pulled out a small case from under the bed and opened it.

It was just a gun. "Is that it?" I asked. He gave me a grumpy look. "Sorry." He smiled again and pointed the gun at me. "Hey, wait a second! I didn't mean-"

He pulled the trigger. I screamed, closing my eyes. I opened my eyes to see if I was still alive. Looking down at myself, I saw a red bang flag sticking out at me. J was holding the gun, trying desperately not to laugh. As soon as we made eye contact, he began to roll on the floor laughing hysterically.

"That's not funny! You tried to kill me!"

"With a bang flag!" he howled between bouts of laughter. He pointed the flag to himself and imitated my reaction. "Want to see the cool part?" he asked, still rolling around in hilarity.

"What are you-" Before I could finish my sentence, he shot the bang flag into the wall. Instantly his laugh turned off. My mouth was agape as I got a closer look. It was sticking into the wall. This was no ordinary bang flag. It was razor-sharp at one end.

"Now imagine that our little friend Bruce is the wall," he smirked pulling the flag out of the wall. I sat there like a deer in headlights. He really was going to kill Bruce. I already knew that, but somehow his little demonstration made more of an impact.

"When?" I squeaked out, unable to say anything else.

"Not today," came his simple, vague reply. I walked out and got food for Bruce. If he's going to die like that, I should be a little nicer to him.

Bruce was sleeping when I got in the room. I set the plate in his lap. "Bruce?" I asked gently. He opened his eyes. "There's food here for you, if you're hungry."

"Thanks." I smiled at him.

J yelled from another room, "Harley!" I rubbed my forehead.

"I got to go," I told Bruce as I plodded out of the room. I was so tired. I didn't know if I could handle whatever J wanted, let alone the rest of the day. My head was pounding. "What is it?"

"I want to talk to Bruce today, and I want you with me."

"Why do you need me with you?"

"Just do. Don't ask questions." Ugh. My headache was growing by the minute. J pulled me towards the door of Bruce's room. I thought he was going to hold the door open for me, but no. He _had _to be the first to go in. "Hi, Bats. How you feeling today?"

The only answer J was getting was a cold stare. He slapped Bruce across the face. I almost felt it. Poor Bruce already had welts and bruises and black eyes. J continued talking.

"You see that?" he remarked, pointing to what had once been a pool of blood on the floor. "That's what happened when Harleen didn't play along with my games. But hey, look at her now. She even matches me," he said touching my face.

Normally, I would've been giggling like an idiot or squealing or something, but not today. I didn't want to be his object lesson. I was beginning to feel dizzy and my headache was turning into a migraine. Obviously, J was expecting my normal reaction. What he got was me turning my face and stepping out of reach.

He could tell that I wasn't angry, but he knew that something was wrong. "Harley, c'mere a sec."

"J, I really don't feel good. Can I please go lie down?"

"C'mere first." I was getting frustrated.

"J, please, I can't...I can't-"I couldn't even finish my sentence. I felt like I was going to puke.

"Harley…get over here." He was using his menacing voice that was usually reserved for people like Batman. I was gasping for breath, struggling to stand. Even Bruce could see that.

"Leave her alone; she's sick!" he yelled.

"Bruce, let mommy and daddy talk," J taunted.

I collapsed onto the floor unconscious.

I woke up in the same spot, only there was a blanket over me, a pillow under my head, and a bottle of water next to me. "What happened?" I asked Bruce weakly.

"You fainted." I still felt the same way as before I fainted, except not quite as dizzy. I'm not sure why, but I got up and started for the door. "Harley?" I turned around at the mention of my name.

"Yes?"

"You want to stay here for a while?" Bruce looked worried about me. I sighed and sat down on the floor. I wasn't staying because he wanted me to. I was staying because I was too weak to face J at the present moment. "By the way, you might want to drink that. I think you're dehydrated," Bruce told me.

"Okay." I took small sips of water. "Bruce, how long was I out?"

"About a day. He got you a pillow and a blanket and let you sleep."

"How'd I get the water?"

"It's mine, but I, uh, think you need it more than I do." I gave him a half-smile.

"Thanks."

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Pretty much the same as yesterday," I replied deadpan.

"Sorry to hear that." I thought about the sincerity of his answer. Even if he was being kind, I still felt a little vulnerable.

"Where's J?" I asked, trying to move the conversation away from myself. I had told Bruce everything, which was not good. Not even J knew _everything_.

"I don't know. He gave you that stuff and disappeared out of the room," he remarked curtly.

"He has stuff to do, too, you know."

"I'm not saying he doesn't. It's just that…" It annoys me when people let their voices trail off.

"It's just that _what?_" I asked angrily. He sighed before giving his answer.

"If he…if he really loves you, he should take care of you." That was it. You can talk bad about me, but you do _not _talk bad about J.

"What? You expect him to hold my hair while I puke? Make a bed for me on the sofa?" Without even realizing it, I had started to yell.

"Yes!"

"That's not like him!"

"You need someone to take care of you, and he's not going to do that!"

"Well, what do you suggest, Bruce?" I was getting so tired of him. He's supposed to be the hostage, not the psychiatrist.

"I suggest you leave him. Get out while you still can." His tone had changed from angry to insistent.

"I chose him! I'll never leave." I started to storm angrily out of the room. Bruce got in one final remark before I could exit completely.

"Think about what you just said! We'll see who the real hostage is!"

The first thing I saw when I got out of the room was J sitting on the floor, looking a little out of place. His confidence wasn't there. He looked defenseless, nervous…vulnerable. "J?" I asked tenderly.

He looked up at me. I could see the sadness in his brown eyes, though he was trying to hide it. On his face was an expression that can only be described as a mix between anger and apathy.

"Did you hear all that?" He nodded slowly. I sat down next to him partly because I was dizzy and partly because I felt bad for him.

He tried to speak a few times, but seemed unable to find the words. His voice wasn't his normal playful tone, nor his angry deep snarl, but a soft, quiet voice, barely above a whisper.

"Do I- Do I take care of you okay?"

"Of course you do. Look at me. I'm still alive, which is more than I'd be on my own."

"But, Harley…" His voice was almost breaking now. "I can see your ribs. You're sick, and I…I don't know how to take care of you." I touched his face, trying to calm him. Aware of how vulnerable he was, he quickly added, "You're no good to me dead, you know." I brushed that comment off, which I'd had to do many times since I moved in with him.

I searched for words. "I can take care of myself fine." That didn't come out the way I wanted it to. He got up, visibly angry that he had let his guard down and I hurt him. _Ugh, I'm such an idiot, _I thought. "J, wait!" He continued walking. For a second, I thought he was going to leave me, but at the last second he turned around.

"I want my favor now."

"What?" I had forgotten all about that.

"My favor. You said I could have a favor, and I want one. Now." I didn't like this. He was mad at me, but he wasn't hitting me, which was weird. And now he pulls this favor on me. Whatever it was, I could tell it was not going to be pleasant for me.

I struggled to get the words "Okay, what do you want?" out. He smiled deviously.

"I want to read your diary." Oh, no. That was personal. It had all my feelings, all my thoughts. Knowing that Batman had read it was bad enough. Giving _him _that was like handing him a book on how to manipulate me, scare me, and make me feel like crap. He would have complete control over me.

"No."

"You little liar. I'm going to-"

"What? Hit me? Done that. Kill me? I'm no good to you dead." Within five seconds, J had a knife pressed to my neck and was holding my arms down. The way he was holding me, I couldn't kick him if I tried.

"Doll, I could kill you whenever I want. Could've yesterday, could tomorrow, could _now._" He pressed hard, drawing blood. I whimpered. "I _own _you. Give me the diary." He let me go just enough so that I could reach my hand into my pocket and give it to him. As soon as I let go of it, he let go of me.

I was furious. He noticed. "What? You mad at me?" he smirked.

"Yes," I replied, biting my lip to keep out of trouble. I was so angry, my lip was almost bleeding.

"Don't you want to hit me?" He wanted me to hit him.

"Yes, but I'm not going to. Then you can't hit me back."

"Dollface, I can hit you whenever I want." He was desperate to get a rise out of me. That's the only reason he would say that. I tried to displeasure him by not giving in, but I wasn't having the best day. I had to throw up and here he was, being a jerk. I just wanted to slug that smile right off his face.

"No, you can't! And _don't _call me dollface!" I erupted, running to the bedroom door and slamming it.

I went into the bathroom, alternating between throwing up and lying on the floor thinking about what Bruce had said. I wasn't a hostage. I could leave whenever I wanted…but if J ever found out, he'd kill me for sure. Maybe even before I could reach the door.

Oh, my gosh. I am a hostage. I couldn't leave him if I tried. I couldn't even want to leave him. Every time he hurt me, he'd be the one to heal me. For every hit, there was a kiss; for every hurtful word, a kind one. I'm hopelessly in love with him. I'll always be.

I was throwing up again when I felt someone pull my hair back. I knew it was him, and I was still mad, but at that moment, I couldn't care less if the Commissioner was holding my hair back. "Finished reading already?" I coughed with disdain.

"Don't be so angry, _dollface._" I rolled my eyes. He was just proving how dominant he was over me. I turned to give him a look that could kill. "Why don't you understand? I don't _need _you, Harley. I chose you. I saw potential, and I pursued it."

"So that's all I am to you? Just your pretty little lackey? "

"No. That's what you started out as." He paused as if he didn't want to have said that. "But I…that day in the jail, when you were brave enough to look me in the eyes, to touch my face…you're different from the world."

"Oh, J." I reached up to kiss him, but he put his hand in front of my face.

"You're still sick."

Realizing how gross I was, I chuckled, "Oh…sorry."

He stayed awake with me that whole night, holding my hair when I was sick or petting my head while I tried to sleep. Deep down, he was a big softie. The Joker was a softie.

I woke up feeling so much better. I was just a little tired. I showered, changed, and brushed my teeth. Ah, it was good to be clean, which meant that J could kiss me. I went off to find him.

He was in the kitchen making his lunch. I was shocked to see that he wasn't wearing his makeup. It was the first time I had seen him without. He even wore it to bed! He wasn't wearing his coat, either. Just his purple pants, lavender shirt, and green vest. Not even a tie. He looked so…different without his makeup. I could see his scars so much clearer. When he saw me, the corners of his Glasgow smile turned up even further. Needless to say, I liked seeing him like that.

"How you feeling?" he asked as his arms circled my waist.

"Much better, thank you." I gave him a brief kiss and slipped out of his arms to get some food.

"Would you be up to go somewhere tonight?" He grinned mischievously. I knew he had something up his sleeve. I decided to tease him.

"Depends. Would it involve running?"

"Only if we get caught."

"Oh, so it's illegal?" I asked casually.

"I wouldn't say it's illegal for two clowns to have dinner together."

"What if those clowns were both mass-murdering psychopaths?" His grin grew further still.

"Stop it, Harl. I'm getting chills," he teased. I giggled. He kissed me again.

"Of course, I'll have to find something to wear…"

"Already taken care of." I raised my eyebrows. He said nothing else, choosing to remain cryptic. The only thing I was getting out of him was a mysterious smile. I thought about the whole thing.

So he was taking me out to dinner…where were we going? It'd have to be somewhere empty. Or maybe we were going in disguise, which would explain the lack of makeup. But what was this about something to wear? I decided to just let it be a surprise.

It stayed in the back of my mind all day, though I tried not to think about it. I came out of Bruce's room after feeding him to see a man dressed in a black pinstriped suit, a purple scarf, and a fedora. It was J. The only way I could tell was by his eyes, bright and full of mischief.

"What do you think?" he asked, turning in a circle. It was pretty hilarious, if you ask me.

"Wow. I kind of miss seeing the scars, though," I laughed.

"It costs to be in public. Go get dressed so we can go."

"What about Bruce?"

"He won't even know we're gone. Now, go. Hurry up. The place'll get busy later." I headed off to our room, not really knowing where to look for my clothes. I checked the closet and found them. There was a red strapless dress with black polka dots, a black sheer scarf, and a pair of black stilettos with heels so pointy you could stab someone with them.

"Oh, my gosh." I was stunned at how much J knew about me. He read me like a book so much that he even knew my style. The dress was a little big, but overall, I was extremely happy. Heck, I could've worn a burlap sack and been happy. I went out into the living room and gave him a little turn.

"What do you think?" I asked nervously. He took my hand and kissed it through his scarf.

"Beautiful." I grabbed him by the lapels of his coat and smooched him through both of our scarves, which was not an easy task. "Daring this evening, aren't we?" he joked, handing me a black trench coat. He gave me a playful purr.

"Stop that!" I laughed, hitting him teasingly. He put an arm around my waist and led me out the door. We passed streets we didn't normally, daring to be in public for once.

"You smell good," he commented. That made me feel a little awkward.

"Don't say that. It's weird."

"In case you haven't noticed, we're not exactly normal, Harl. I'm almost twice your age, and we're both facing the death penalty. We're freaks." He seemed troubled that I didn't already know that. The truth was I did, but I didn't want to believe that my romantic fantasy land didn't exist. It was all worth it for him, though.

"I wouldn't have it any other way. You might be a freak to them, but to me, you're perfect." He tightened his grip around my waist. "And you smell good, too." He chuckled, intrigued that I had accepted his weirdness. "It'd be weird if we were normal. We're like…not even…but like…you know." I couldn't find the words, but J knew what I was trying to say. We certainly weren't dating. We weren't friends. He's just…my J, and we love each other.

"You're my Harley-girl." Though I couldn't see it, I could tell there was a smile under his scarf. His eyes got brighter when he smiled. "Ain't that right, babe?" I squealed with delight.

"Of course."

"Well, this is it," he declared in his default playful tone. We had stopped outside of a small but fancy restaurant called Valentino's. He took my hand and started pulling me inside like a little kid outside a toy store. "What are you waiting for, Harl? Let's go!" I teetered on my heels as he pulled at my hand, making me lose my balance.

The Italian man who I presume was Valentino greeted us at the door with a hello. He was shorter than J, but that's not saying much since J's a little over six feet tall. What's really saying something is that he was shorter than me in my four-inch heels, and I'm 5'1''. "You're looking very nice tonight, Mr. J." Looks like I wasn't the only one to call him that. "And who might this be?"

"This is the one I was telling you about," he replied as he gave my shoulder an affectionate squeeze. The owner bent closer to us, out of earshot.

"So this would be Miss Quinn?" I nodded with a smile. "You know, boss, I expected her to be young, but not this young. Ah, well. A beautiful girl is a beautiful girl." I liked this Valentino already.

He sat us down in an out-of-the-way booth and went off to attend to his other customers. "That guy doesn't watch the news much, does he?" I remarked. Anybody who's seen the news knows what I look like and knows that J and I are together.

"No, guess not," he replied blankly, his focus on other things.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just checking for cops," he answered his voice low. I rolled my eyes, a little embarrassed. Valentino came back to take our orders.

"And what will we be having tonight?"

"Oh, I'm really not hungry," I told him. It was true, but J gave me a look that told me that I had to eat something. "But I guess I'll just have some ice cream, please." As soon as the man turned around, I stuck my tongue out at J, hoping he'd see it through the scarf.

J told Valentino "We'll split it," as he crossed his eyes at me.

"Whatever you say, Signore." He toddled off again.

"Now your spit's going to be in my ice cream!" I griped teasingly.

"So my spit bothers you, but kissing you doesn't?" he queried, almost chuckling.

"Hey! Be nice to me or I'll tell him it's your birthday." He feigned surprise.

"Oh, you are evil."

"I'll do it." He reacted overdramatically, putting his hands on either side of his jaw.

"However will I survive being sung to?"

"Oh, Valentino…" I started. I didn't say it loud enough so he could hear, but just to annoy J.

"Shut up, Harley!" he whispered sharply through his teeth. I giggled at his resistance.

"You're all talk, aren't you?" I teased.

"The mind _is_ the greatest weapon," he quipped with a smile. He had his wits about him; that's for sure. "So, Harl…talk to me. Where you from? What's your story?"

"O…kay. Well, I'm from Gotham City, and I'm in love with a dangerous psychopath."

"Come on, Harley. Tell me something I don't know," he replied, half-joking.

"I was born here-"

"In Valentino's?" he kidded.

"Shut up," I ordered playfully. "In Gotham, Mr. Smart-aleck. Umm...what else do you want to know?"

"I don't know…what's your favorite color?" The whole twenty questions thing was kind of annoying, but he was attempting a real conversation, so I acquiesced.

"Red. You could've found that in my diary."

"But I like talking to you," he whined like a two year old.

"Okay, then. How about a game? I tell you something about me that you don't know and you tell me something about you that I don't know."

"You go first."

"Okay…I'm an only child."

"And?"

"Your turn."

"But, Harl…" I stared him down. "Fine. I had a brother."

"I went to juvie once." That was a half-truth. It was only overnight because we went a little far with a prank on our school. J raised his eyebrows, surprised at me.

"I was adopted when I was eight."

"My middle name is Francis." He giggled. I kicked him under the table. He groaned. These heels were coming in handy.

"She's a feisty one, isn't she?" Valentino laughed as he made his way over with my dessert. J grimaced at me. I gave him a smug smile.

"She certainly is," he muttered, rubbing his knee.

"I'm sorry," I sighed. _Big baby,_ I thought.

"Thank you," he smiled, licking his spoon.

"What are you doing?" He was silent, just kept smiling. I knew what was going to happen. Before he could stick his spoon in my ice cream, I grabbed the bowl, pulled my scarf out of the way, and licked all over it. I quickly pulled my scarf back up and smiled.

He just pulled down one side of his scarf and took a spoonful anyway, but not before dragging his spoon across the entire thing. Silly me. I forgot who I was dining with.

"I thought you _wanted _me to eat."

"Yeah. What's the big deal? C'mere." I bent closer to him. He pulled down a side of my scarf and kissed me. As soon as I pulled away, his spoon was in my mouth. I moaned in disgust, forcing myself to swallow.

"You are so gross," I chuckled in spite of myself.

"Was that so bad?" he laughed. As we were laughing, I saw a guy get a look on his face. It was a look I had seen before; Bruce had the same look on his face when J came into his penthouse.

"J, we got trouble."

"Okay, here's what we're going to do," he responded his voice low, "You lure him outside and keep him there. Knock him out if you can. I'll be out in a minute. Then, just follow my instructions exactly."

"Okay," I replied, my voice shaky. He grabbed my arm before I got up.

"You can do it, Harl." I nodded towards him, hiding the fact that I was freaking out inside.

_Think, Harl! Think!_ I went up to the guy that had been looking at us. "Hey. I think I you're double parked. Just letting you know." I turned around, hoping he would say something. It was a long shot, but…

"Which car is it?" he asked. Yes! He took the bait.

"Uhm…sorry. I'm really no good with cars. Could you come check?" I noticed the emblem on his keys. "It's a Chevy something." He followed me outside. I thought of how to knock him out or keep him there.

"I don't see any double parked cars," he asked. I took off one of my shoes.

"Over there. See it?" He turned around, his back now facing me.

"No, I-" I smacked him in the back of the head with my shoe, which left a pretty big mark. J _must've _planned that. I put my shoe back on and waited for him.

He came out right on time. Noticing the unconscious guy, he conveyed his approval. "You figured it out!"

I gasped. He really had planned it. J threw the guy over his shoulder and started running. Lucky for J, I was in West Side Story last year at school and had to perform every scene with heels on. I was capable of running almost as fast as he was without breaking an ankle. J suddenly stopped running.

"Cop," he whispered. The cop noticed J carrying the guy.

"Is that guy okay?" he yelled to us.

"Tell him he's drunk or something," J murmured.

I yelled back to the policeman, "He's drunk. Got in a fight. We're going to take him home." The policeman nodded.

J whispered, "Good job, kid." We kept on until we were a safe distance from the cop. J put the guy down in an alley, and we went home arm in arm.

"Oh, my gosh. We did it," I laughed. J smiled.

"You better get some sleep. You know, take care of yourself."

"I'll be there in a minute. I'm going to check on Bruce first."

Through my experience with J, I've learned that he likes to keep a balance of how nice he is to me. If he's been really nice throughout the day, he has to say something to offset it. If he's been mean, he'll do something for me or be sweet for a while. To be honest, I wasn't expecting anything that night, but he stayed true to his weird little philosophy.

"By the way," he commented as he walked to the bedroom, "that cop? James Something? That's Commissioner Gordon." I sighed. He just _had _to remind me that he had my diary.

"Why did you say that?" No answer. He just took off his scarf to reveal that devilish smile underneath and walked away.

I tramped into Bruce's room. He looked up at me, surprised at the way I looked. I wasn't amused. I was mad at him because J knew about my diary. Probably because he told him. "Hey, Bruce, did you tell J about my diary?"

"I might have mentioned it, yeah." I kicked him hard across the face. He cried out in pain. He was bleeding a little, which made me love these shoes even more. "What's your problem?"

"Keep talking, Bruce. I want to hit you again." I walked halfway out the door when I heard him say something that angered me greatly. It wasn't what he said that angered me, but the way he said it, so sarcastic and mocking.

"I thought you guys shared everything since you're obviously in love with each other." I turned abruptly and walked back over to him slowly. He stared me in the face defiantly. I kneed him in the groin.

"Good night, Bruce."

J was still asleep when I woke up, so I went into the kitchen to make breakfast. I had been living on microwave meals and decided that it was time for a real meal: French toast. While I was getting the things I needed, I began to sing to myself. I didn't even realize I had started doing it.

"_He's my Brandy Alexander; always gets me into trouble, but that's another matter, Brandy Alexander…"_ Hearing footsteps behind me, I stopped singing.

"Don't stop. I like it," J uttered from behind me. I blushed and opted to hum, a little embarrassed that he had heard me. Wanting to get out as quickly as possible, I plated my toast.

"I, uh…I better check on Bruce," I stammered. It was so idiotic. I'm in love with the man, yet I still get self-conscious in front of him. Anyway, I went to the bathroom to put on makeup, then into Bruce's room.

"Oh…hello," came his irritated greeting. I sighed. He was pretty mad from last night.

"Bruce, what did you expect? Now he knows about everything in there. It's like a manual to my feelings. Don't you get it? He can manipulate me now!"

"He could always manipulate you." I sighed again.

"What do you want me to say, I'm sorry? Bruce…you're a hostage. We're not friends here. J's going to kill you, and I…" I didn't think I'd be so emotional over Bruce's death after all the pain he caused us, but for some reason, I was. "I'm sorry, Bruce. I can't do anything about that."

"You could help me escape."

"You and I both know what would happen then." I didn't want to admit that J would kill us both, but…it was probably true.

"You could get a new name, new identity."

"Have you _seen _me? The scars are kind of a defining feature." His turn to sigh.

"We…there are ways to protect you. Just…think about it, please." I buried my face in my hands. If J heard about this, he'd be furious.

"Bruce…you know too much. You know well enough that we're both alive, and…and you're freaking Batman! Honestly…" I looked at him, but he refused to make eye contact. Oh, gosh…he had brown eyes, just like J. And just like I did with J, I saw the child in Bruce, scared and helpless…at that moment, I didn't know if I could live with letting him die.

I went out of the room to speak with J, find out why Bruce had to die. He burst out laughing when I asked him what Bruce did wrong.

"Seriously?" he asked. I nodded slowly. "Honestly, Harl, I don't know how you haven't figured this out already….which is why I'm not going to tell you."

"What? J…come on! You have to tell me!" When he turned to look at me, his smile had vanished, replaced with a ominous frown.

"I thought we had established that I don't _have _to do anything." Somebody was moody.

"You're right," I said expressionlessly. It wasn't worth the argument, let alone the fight that usually followed these things. He gave me a smug smirk. I decided to just be submissive, nothing cute and nothing funny. Satisfied, he walked away. I kept looking down, even after he was gone. I tried to remain hopeful, thinking of the balance that J normally kept, but it wasn't helping.

He was here, so it wasn't a sit in the corner day. I just felt…blank and empty. He hadn't even had my diary for a week, yet he was already using it against me. This had to stop. I needed release.

Later that day, it was raining, which was my medicine. I asked J if I could go outside for a bit and was surprised at his answer.

He looked up from my diary and asserted, "On one condition."

"What?"

"I come with you." I pondered his intentions, coming to the conclusion that he either was preventing me from running away or actually spending time with me. At the time, I would have given anything to be outside in the rain, so I let him come. He held the door for me as we stepped outside.

It was perfect. The rain was heavy, but not too cold. J stared at me as I stood smiling. His makeup was trickling down his face, stripping away a part of his rough appearance. Slowly, he took step after step towards me until our faces were almost touching. We kept eye contact, which was intimidating but at the same time intriguing. He was reading me, his gaze intense. I felt so vulnerable.

"I'm glad you missed me," he cooed. "I missed you, too." That was exactly what I needed to hear. I had made such an effort to hide it from him, but he has this ability to read people. I lay my head on his chest and started to cry. He put his arms around me, pressing me to himself. I needed that, too. He held me like that for ten minutes or so, the rain washing our makeup into one colorful puddle. I started to shiver.

"Are you cold?" he asked. I nodded, looking up into his deep brown eyes. His stare was no longer intense, but tender and sweet. I almost melted. "C'mon. Let's go inside." He draped his purple coat over my shoulders and led me into the warmth of the apartment.

I went into the bathroom to hang his coat. He followed, wanting to fix his makeup. He reached for it, but I stopped him.

"Wait…" I kissed him passionately. "I like it when I mess up your makeup," I bantered, running a hand through his hair. His expression conveyed surprise at my confident demeanor.

"You want me to leave it?" he asked.

"Would you?" He flashed me a playful grin.

"Only if you leave yours." I looked in the mirror. It looked like an art project had exploded on my face, but the cause was something special.

"Okay," I replied smirking. I know he expected me to say no. While looking at us both in the mirror, I got an idea. "Hey…you want to freak Bruce out?" When his grin grew, I knew he caught my drift.

He took the damp coat from over the shower curtain and grabbed my hand, near dragging me to the door of Bruce's room.

"Whatever I do, just go with it. Okay?" he stated. I squeaked when he picked me up like a groom carrying a bride. This wasn't my plan, but I went along with it. "Can you get the door?" he asked. I would have replied yes if he wasn't kissing me. I turned the knob while he, still kissing me, pushed against it.

He sat down on the floor across from Bruce, still holding me in his arms. Bruce watched in horror as he sat me down in his lap. I giggled.

"Mmm…Harley, you're adorable," he flattered. I threw my arms around his neck.

"And you're gorgeous." J raised his eyebrows in surprise. I winked, showing him that it was all part of the game, even though I really did think he was gorgeous. He brushed his gloved hand against my face, showing me that he _knew_ that I really did think he was gorgeous.

"You're beautiful." I giggled again. I couldn't help it; he just makes me smile. J's whole appearance seemed to darken as his gaze shifted to Bruce. "Are we…bothering you?" he asked sarcastically. I turned to look at Bruce, whose face was contorted in an angry frown.

"Bruce…why so serious?" I asked with a smirk. J got up without warning, causing me to fall off his lap. He offered me a hand, which I reluctantly accepted. Could've just told me he was getting up, but that's beside the point…

I followed J as he walked closer to Bruce's chair. He pulled a knife out of one of his many pockets and began tracing Bruce's face with it, not drawing blood, just scaring him. It was working. Panic rose in his eyes.

Bruce addressed me, "Harley, do some-"

"Ah!" J interrupted. "You don't talk to her. You talk to me." That wasn't like him.

"J, I'm in here all the time. You wanted me to take care of him." He sighed.

"Harley, Harley, Harley…can't you see I'm just protecting you? You can't hang out with these rodent types. They carry all sorts of diseases too strong for your little immune system."

"It's Bruce. He's all tied up," I replied blankly. J was being so weird.

"C'mere." He pulled me behind Bruce's chair. His wrists were all red from pulling at the rope. "You see? He keeps at that and he'll be out of here. Can't have that, now can we?" Like a magician, he pulled a chain out of the pocket of his big purple coat and fastened it around Bruce's hands causing him to groan at the metal on his injured wrists.

"Why are doing that? You're hurting him!" I was concerned about Bruce. He might've started bleeding if J kept this up.

"Oh, no. Found a soft spot for Batsy, haven't you? Aren't you forgetting what he did to you? Hmm?" J rested his head on my shoulder. "He threw you off a balcony," he whispered just loud enough for Bruce to hear. "Would _I _ever throw you off a balcony?"

"N-no," I shuddered. I hate remembering that. It was so scary.

"And didn't he try to kill me?" I felt like I was in some weird trance. J has a power over me, perhaps just because he's so dominant.

"Yeah, he did," I answered, my voice breaking. If I had lost J…

"Shh…shh…" He put an arm around my shoulders. "Look what you did, Bruce. You've upset my sweet, little Harley. I don't like that. Not. One. _Bit._" He lifted my chin so he could talk to me. "I don't like it when you get hurt, Harl, so from now on, you don't come in here unless it's with me…okay?"

"Okay," I sniffled. He looked at Bruce again, his eyes blazing.

"You have to learn not to hurt my _belongings, _especially not my precious little doll," he demanded, grabbing my face and turning it towards Bruce. I clung to J's arm. "Now, Harley, do you think I should punish this…pest so that he learns his lesson? Hmm?"

All the empathy that I had for Bruce went out the window for the moment. Something about the way J was talking to me made sure of that. He was being so gentle, holding me like that and being all protective. Bruce hurt him before, so why couldn't he hurt Bruce? I nodded.

"You want to watch?" he asked. I shook my head no. Judging by the eagerness in his voice, this wasn't going to be fun for Bruce. J turned me towards himself, keeping one arm around me tight. I buried my face in his chest.

For the next half hour, the only sounds were J laughing and Bruce screaming in pain. I didn't dare turn around. It disgusted me to the point where I had to plead with J to stop. And by plead, I mean scream my lungs out begging him. I was exhausted when he finally complied, putting his other arm around me.

"No more, J…please, no more," I whispered still. He kept me close as we walked out of the room.

"Shh…it's done. It's all over." I looked up at his face.

"Why'd you do that?" He was a little confused.

"I don't like it when you get hurt." I was hesitant, but I had to say it.

"But you hurt me all the time." I regretted it as soon as it came out of my mouth. What had I done? And what would he do to me for it?

"I _hate_ it when I have to hurt you. It's hard to see that angel face of yours all full of tears, but it's for a reason…"

"Why?" I asked, but he said nothing more. He let go of me. I gasped in terror. His left arm was _covered_ in blood. "What did you _do_ to him?"

"I hurt him. That's all you need to know." I started for Bruce's room. "Harley! Don't go in there alone!" he warned. I reluctantly walked away from the door.

"You better go clean yourself up," I suggested quietly.

I went into the bedroom to change into dry clothes. I found a tank top and some pajama pants I had stolen earlier and climbed into bed. It was hard to sleep, so I resorted to just closing my eyes and trying to relax. As J sat down on the edge of the bed, I felt the weight shift, but I kept my eyes closed.

"You want to know why I hurt you, Harl?" I almost started bawling at how tender his tone was. He was so quiet, making sure he wouldn't wake the supposedly sleeping me. It was a voice I had never heard from him before, almost tearful and so soft…he went on. "I need you to be scared of me. Scared so you won't try to run away. That's what _I'm _scared of. You don't need me, but..."

He let his voice trail off, kissing me gently on the cheek before turning in.

The sound of banging on the wall and yelling woke me up. It was Bruce. I was overcome with a feeling of guilt.

"J?" I called. He wasn't there. I ran out of the room, thinking that he was beating Bruce up some more, but he was just sitting in the living room with his hands over his ears. He had fixed his makeup and washed off his coat. "J, can we please go see what he's yelling about?" I asked loudly.

"What?" he answered. I sighed and dared to move his hands away from his ears.

"Can we go help Bruce?" I asked.

"He's a hostage, Harl. Besides, you're not going to want to see him."

"Think of it this way. If we don't bandage him, you won't have a _live_ hostage. He'll bleed to death. Do you want that?" J scowled and gave me a no. He reluctantly got up and followed me into the room.

As soon as I saw Bruce, I ran sobbing out of the room. J caught me by the waist.

"Harley. Harley! Calm down. I told you you wouldn't want to see him, but now we have to. I don't want a dead hostage. Now, come on." I shook my head, trying desperately to break away from him. He started to drag me towards the room. I was kicking and flailing, anything to get away, but he kept on effortlessly with his strength. As soon as we got in, he set me down and closed the door, standing in front of it. He passed me a roll of gauze from his pocket and pushed me towards Bruce.

Bruce was a mess. His face had still bleeding cuts all over it. His shirt was stained crimson red; his arm looked like it had been attacked by a blender. I turned around and tried to run back to J, but he gave me a menacing look.

"Do it," he warned. I obeyed unwillingly.

"Bruce?" I called. He groaned. "Give me your arm." He moved as much as he could within the restraints. I wrapped his entire forearm carefully in two layers of gauze, tying it off at the end. I hesitantly pulled his shirt up to check the damage. It was horrendous. I almost threw up on the spot.

"Go on," J said demandingly. I sighed and started wrapping layer upon layer around Bruce. He winced at the touch.

"I'm sorry," I consoled nervously. Once I was finished there, I moved on to his face. I held a couple layers to stop the bleeding and turned to J, who appeared satisfied. I ran back into his arms, glad I had finished that horrible task. He ran his hand through my hair.

"Good girl," he praised. I sighed into his coat and went off to wash my hands. J followed.

"_What_ did you do to him?" I asked, appalled by Bruce's wounds.

"I made sure he'd never hurt you again." I frowned. "What's wrong, Harley-girl?"

"You didn't have to do _that_."

"I couldn't help myself. Probably would've killed him if you didn't want me to stop." I splashed some cold water on my face to get rid of the sick feeling those wounds gave me. "Are you alright?" J asked. I rubbed my forehead.

"I…just feel a little sick after seeing all that." The truth was I felt sick because I knew that J did that. I knew he killed people. I knew he hurt people. But _experiencing _it was different that knowing. Hearing Bruce scream brought tears to my eyes. I heard the human in him instead of the Batman. In case you haven't guessed, I felt bad for him again.

J embraced me after reading my body language. It didn't surprise me. Anyone could tell I wasn't okay. I was shaking all over. He ran his hand up and down my back.

"J, I…" I choked. All I could say to finish was "When?"

"Shush, shush, shush," he cooed. "Tomorrow. It'll all be over tomorrow, dolly." I cried into his shirt, which was stained with my makeup from yesterday. I couldn't believe he was going to do it tomorrow. Poor Bruce was already hurt. I wept until my eyes were completely dry. I didn't know why I felt this so much. Maybe there was still a little bit of Harleen left in me.

J woke me up like an excited two-year-old at six in the morning. He was shaking me and jumping up and down on the bed.

"C'mon! C'mon! C'mon! Get up! Put on something nice! Today's the day!" he giggled. I rolled my eyes and got up. I walked calmly to the closet, J circling me like a little puppy waiting to go on a walk. I picked out the first outfit I saw, which was a black cotton skirt and a red top.

I turned to him and asked, "Do you mind?" He played dumb. "J, just get out please," I sighed. He did. I got changed and headed for the bathroom where J was eagerly awaiting me. I put on my makeup.

"Ready?" he asked. _No,_ I thought. He pulled out his bang flag gun from his pocket in anticipation. He took my arm and led me into Bruce's room.

Poor Bruce. He looked like he had been hit by a truck. I desperately tried to think of every bad thing he'd ever done to me. If looks could kill, Bruce would be guilty of murdering the both of us. I felt so guilty.

"Well, well, well…how we feeling today, Bats?" J asked cheerily. I put my hand on my forehead in anguish.

Bruce sneered, "Like I got run over by two psychopathic clowns." J laughed at him.

"Flattery's not going to save you now, Bruce," J jested. It was like a bad dream. Bruce stared at him defiantly as J lowered the gun to his face. He pulled the trigger the first time. Even though I knew what was coming, I yelped. The red bang flag stared Bruce in the face as J doubled over in a fit of laughter.

"What?" Bruce said, dazed. J calmed himself down.

"This bang flag is a very special bang flag. Harley knows about that," he chuckled. I gave him a sorrow-filled look. He was really going to do it. "Want to see what's so special about it?" J smiled. Just as he was about to pull the trigger a second time, I did something very, _very _bad.

I tackled him.

In the struggle, the flag plunged into the wall. We toppled over onto the floor. His body was crushing mine. He grabbed me by the shirt and hoisted me onto the wall.

"Please, J, don't!" I screamed. I thought he was going to kill me.

"Oh, it's much too late for that. I thought you were my doll. I thought you _loved_ me. I guess I was wrong," he growled, a maniacal expression across his face. I started sobbing as the blur of hits came. My nose was bloody already.

"Joker! Stop it! Stop!" Bruce yelled. He was using his Batman voice, as if that could stop J. The hits kept coming, swift and hard. J's beaten me hard before, but never as hard as this. The final noise was terrifying. A loud crack came from my body as I shrieked in pain, falling to the floor. Every breath was like I was being stabbed.

J looked at me, trying to read me for something. All he was going to see was pain. Emotional pain, physical pain…every pain in the book.

I managed to wheeze, "I think…you broke a rib." I was still sobbing, which was killing me. The last thing I saw before I passed out from the pain was J pacing angrily about the room, slamming his fist into the wall.

I woke up in the same hospital I had been in when this mess first started. This time was slightly different, however. For one, I was on the second floor. Also, I was chained to the bed, and there was a police officer guarding me. I couldn't believe it. J turned me in!

I screamed in anger, which hurt me more than I expected. The officer turned around. He had a scarf around his face and big brown eyes. I gasped in horror. J was the last thing I needed right now.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm making sure you're okay," he replied, reaching over to undo the chains around my hands. He had some nerve showing up after what he did.

"I'm going to ask you something, and I want the truth," I demanded. I couldn't help it. I had to know, even if it killed me. "That day when you told me you loved me…did you mean it?" The tears were coming already.

"No, but-"

"Get out. And don't come back."

"Harley, I-"

"Get out!" I sobbed. I knew it was true. He never loved me. His actions sure didn't show it.

Bruce, you were right about him from the beginning. I should've listened to you back in Arkham when I had the chance. Turns out you were right. He did kill me. If you make it out alive, I'm sorry for everything. Tell Alfred the same.

And to the police, when you get this- you'll find the Joker in the apartment building on Forsyth. By the time you read this, he might have moved already. Sorry I couldn't help you more.

And finally, J. I never stopped loving you, which is the problem. I can't live without you, but I certainly can't live with you. I can't live at all anymore. It's too much to handle. Do me a favor. Go back to Arkham, where you belong.


End file.
